Beyond the Sea
by Alex Amari
Summary: For the Biokink meme. Forty years have passed since Jack's time in Rapture, and he's grown to see his "daughters" and their own children live their life. But his granddaughter finds out that there may be things he's hiding and decides, despite his warnings, to check it out herself. Please read and review, I promise it's much better than it sounds!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is for the Biokink meme. This new project has turned into a multichapter _monster_, so it may take a little while for the plot to pick up. But as this is my current baby, I promise it's gonna be good. Please read and review; it really does help me in the long run!

**Prompt: The lighthouse is buggered to hell and back, but parts of it still stand. Within it, a bathysphere has bubbled to the surface, and it's in surprisingly good condition for it's age. Someone from the surface, maybe a descendant of Jack's(or a child of one of the Little Sisters he raised in the Good Ending) finds the audio diary entries in his great grandad's items and written entries from Jack himself and becomes curious. They set out, and manage to find the remains of the lighthouse with a working bathysphere inside.**

**They descend into what remains of Rapture, and find that there are still splicers(though very few of them) and a handful of Big Daddies. The splicers have evolved and are vastly different from those in the original story, but surprisingly, there are a few who are very much human at the core and they're looking for answers in the rotting city. The main kid meets up with one of these more rational splicers and they adventure through Rapture.**

**The Fill:  
**

"Lady, are you sure this is the place? It looks…really deserted." The boat's driver asked warily, peering from his station at the wheel to the woman—girl, really, he thought, she had to have been twenty years his junior—standing at the bow. She's dressed warmly, but not warmly enough for the middle of the fucking Pacific ocean, he observed, noting her tennis shoes, jeans, and too-large jacket, the army-green hood pulled up to shield her ears from the wind. She turned to face him, young face split into an eager smile.

"Yessir, this has to be it!" She called back, brushing a strand of dark brown hair from her face. Turning back around, she sighed, staring at the lighthouse rising from the cold waters like a monolith. It was even more worn than Granddad had described, she thought, but forty-plus years would do a number on anything out here. She slung a small backpack from its place on her shoulders to pull a journal from its depths. Yes, this was it. The sketch was spot-on, all descriptions in place. This was it. Her heart pounded in her chest as she slipped the book back into the bag and returned it to her back.

Months before, she had been in her grandfather's attic looking for a book he needed and had found a trunk pushed into the far corner where she had never seen it before. Within, she found several black-and-white photos, scraps of paper, a few grimy masquerade masks, quite a few odds and ends, a shortwave radio, and a tape recorder along with several tapes. Playing these tapes had told her something she had never known before. Her grandfather, sweet and caring that he was, had been hiding something. He never spoke of being a child or growing up, just tales of raising his adoptive daughters and nieces, all of which were within three to five years of each other. This place, this…Rapture these tapes all told of, fascinated her to no end. She had asked her mother about it first, but her questions were avoided with what was startlingly similar to fear. And of course when she asked her Granddad, she only got one response: "Forget what you've found, Alice. Don't think about that place. It's dead and gone, and holds nothing but nightmares and bad memories. Now wash up for dinner, sweetheart."

Of course, she couldn't just forget about it. She would sneak back into the attic to listen to those tapes over and over again, learning what she could. Sadly, she couldn't deduce much, even with the rest of the trunk's contents to go by. But with a little guessing, a lot of research, and an advertisement on the internet, she was able to use some of the money she had saved away to sneak off and check it out in person. She felt drawn to this place, she realized, staring up at the great structure. She was meant to be here.

As the boat approached the set of stairs that led to the base of the lighthouse, she observed that the top several feet of the structure had eroded and crumbled away into the sea. Obviously, Granddad was right about one thing. This place was hardly well-kept.

"All right, lady, we're here." The driver called to her warily, letting the boat idle at the base of the stairs. "How long you gonna be?"

"Not long," She fibbed. She had no idea what she was getting into. From the looks of it, this was only a rusted old lighthouse. It could be nothing. It could be everything. The prospect of discovery sent a shiver of excitement running up her spine. "If I keep you too long, I'll pay you extra for the trouble."

The man wasn't looking for money, he thought, looking up at the old building warily. He was concerned for this girl's safety. She looked barely out of her teens, and he knew from experience that whatever she was after, she most likely hadn't thought this through. He wasn't sure why he was so concerned for this stranger—maybe it was because her eyes were green, much like his own daughter's—but this whole situation just rubbed him the wrong way. "All right," He said after a moment. "But if you're not back in an hour, I'm comin' in after you. Places like this, you never know how stable they are."

"Thank you, sir," Alice smiled, wiping her wind-reddened nose. "But hopefully this shouldn't be too long." Before he could try to stop her, she hopped off the boat's edge onto one of the bottommost stairs and starting the trek upwards.

A great set of double doors stood at the top, carved into an art deco motif of what must have been Atlas holding up the earth. Odd, she thought, taking a moment to take it in. The original color of the metal was lost in the pitted, oxidized sheen it bore. One door stood ajar. The girl slid her fingers in the crack and gave the great thing a tug, but it was stuck fast. Wrenching and prying gave little to show for it, but eventually it gave about a foot with an ear-splitting screech before no amount of effort would budge it further. If she turned sideways, she discovered, she could just barely squeeze in. Casting a glance to the boat below, she turned back to the door and peeked inside. Only darkness. "Here goes nothing," She muttered, trying to hearten herself and only feeling cheesy for using the line at all. She slid the bag off of her back, holding it in one hand as she inched her way into the room beyond.

The boat driver watched her, shifting a little in his discomfort and resigning himself not to get involved until it was necessary. This wasn't his problem. He'd taken the job, that was it. These thoughts flew from his mind when the door she had just entered slammed closed with a speed that was too great for its dilapidated state, separating his client from the outside world. At the edge of his hearing, beyond stone and metal, he caught a shrill scream.


	2. Chapter 2

Alice screamed, startled by the resounding boom of the door closing, and whirled around, pressing her hands to the metal and trying to heave it open. She was in complete darkness, unable to see a thing despite the sunlight outside. As she dug her shoulder into the door, she was distracted by a buzz, the light behind her clanking on. The doors on the inside were either gold or polished brass, she realized, blinking. She didn't have a good eye to tell the difference. Turning to see the room, she flinched as she met the large, ugly visage of a fifty-foot-tall bust looming over her. It was made of the same metal as the doors, the man's grim glare making her feel oddly self-conscious. A banner was meant to hang from one side to the other, but it had fallen from one side. She could barely read the faded gold lettering on the dusty red fabric.

"No gods or kings…only man…" She read, letting out a slow sigh. "You must be Andrew Ryan, hmm?" Ever the nervous talker, she let out a small laugh. "Now _that's_ a face only a mother could love." A small plaque stood before it, the words worn away by time and salt air. A scratchy recording of an instrumental rendition of Bobby Darin's "Beyond the Sea" played over bell-shaped speakers, and she couldn't help but hum along. It had been one of Granddad's favorite songs. The familiarity of the tune helped calm her nerves a little and she moved to the far side of the room. No reason not to keep going, she thought, especially when the door wouldn't move.

In the chamber beyond, the music was louder, two sets of stairs leading from the upper level to a lower chamber, one side darkened by a burnt out bulb. And there, beyond the curve, rested a huge spherical chamber, door open and containing only a lever and a circular bench running along the wall. "A bathysphere." She breathed, eyes going wide. It seemed to be in working order, despite its obvious age.

Before she could walk in, she hesitated. All of this seemed too convenient. The door, the lights, an open bathysphere waiting on her arrival…was this a coincidence? She shrugged it off. She had come too far to chicken out over a few odd instances. She came here to discover just what her family was hiding, and she wouldn't leave until she found it. This decided, she walked into the pod, investigating the interior. The plush red cushions in the seats were covered in dust, as was the lever that resided at the back. Before she could talk herself out of going past the point of no return, she reached out and pulled the lever. The cool metal gave with little more than a creak, the door swinging closed. A pneumatic hiss rang through the pod and she whipped around to feel the floor beneath her give as the bathysphere was dropped from its dock into the water.

Alice grinned as she felt the temperature in the pod drop as she sank deeper into the sea. A low hum rumbled through the metal beneath her feet as she felt the bathysphere come to life, moving through the water and nearly scraping the sea floor as it moved along. Granddad's journal had said something about a video introducing newcomers to the city, but it seemed this particular pod didn't have it equipped. The city rose beyond a bed of coral, and the young woman felt her breath hitch in her chest at its beauty.

Much of the neon signs were still lit, several lights on in the windows, casting a blue-white glow around the metal and glass impression it gave. "Rapture…" She breathed, close enough to the bathysphere's window that she fogged it with her breath. It was as beautiful as she imagined it would be and more. What was it like, she thought, forty years ago when her grandfather had visited? Or even ten years before that, when it was built?

Rust and chrome and neon met her eyes, sea life floating on by as they ignored the moving metal thing. As it settled in its predestined path between the towering buildings, she felt it turn abruptly, making for an unseen part of the city. She felt like a little kid as she looked over all her eyes could meet, wanting to take it all in. She wasn't dreaming, she reminded herself. She was honestly finding the city that would hold all of her family's secrets. The wondrous city that she could not stop thinking of for weeks.

The bathysphere settled into a groove that led into one of the monolithic structures surrounding her, allowing her to blink and look away. The service radio, she saw, was burnt out, dead in its holder. She rifled through her bag, pulling out one identical, though much less worn. After flipping a switch she saw it slowly come to life, its amber glow almost startling her. The dial turned and searched without her consent. Eventually, it settled into a frequency that held none of the static and screeches she had met on the surface, only a soft hiss. Radio silence. An open channel to whoever might be able to tap in. For reasons she could not name, this realization made her heart race. But after so long in a dilapidated, anarchic, self-destroying society, would anyone be alive to pick up the other end?

There was a clank and a groan as the pod docked, slowly ascending into the lowest level of what may have been a skyscraper if there existed a sky to reach toward.


	3. Chapter 3

She heard the water rushing off of the bathysphere as it pulled into its dock, the door holding fast. She'd have to open it manually, she realized, but she took a moment to steel herself for what was to come. This place, she reminded herself, would not be friendly. It was very likely there would be nothing and no one to find after so long. The "splicers" as they were called in the tapes had most likely killed each other years before. But if that was true, why was the metro still working? Why was the lighthouse still in barely working order? She shivered, shouldering her bag and taking a deep breath of cold, damp salt air. After she felt she was ready, she opened the door.

One careful step into the world before her. Two. Groaning metal met her ears, harmonizing with the sounds of water gurgling, humming, and splashing as moved outside and trickled into the walls. The windows in this building were large, she saw, letting in the blue-green glow of the sea, lit by the few neon signs still alight outside. She was surrounded on all sides by fish, water, and the sleek, streamlined buildings of Rapture, and couldn't help but take a moment to take it all in. It was everything she had imagined and more. How beautiful it must have been when it was first built. How wonderful to hear the sounds of people and children instead of the sounds of decay and destruction and the mad ramblings of a nearby Splicer—

She froze. Mad ramblings meant someone was still alive down here. How on Earth was that possible? Granddad had guessed in the journal that they would kill each other out within a decade. It would have to be abandoned, right? But despite her assurances, the voice was getting closer. She looked around, desperate to find something to defend herself. She hadn't thought to bring anything, assuming the lighthouse was empty. She never expected to get this far. Among the abandoned suitcases littered about the Metro station, she saw a bag of a familiar shape. Pulling it free, she unzipped it and pulled the thin fabric aside to reveal—"Yes…" She grinned, pulling a baseball bat free. It wasn't a gun, but it was better than a wrench. She slid the radio onto her belt and held the bat ready, hands shaking as she realized that she was probably in way over her head.

A dim shape staggered into the Metro station. She strained to hear what it was saying. From the voice and shape, she guessed it to be a man. "All out to get me things…" He hissed, slouching as he shuffled along and holding something in his hands. "I'll show 'em…all of 'em…"

Alice bit her lip, ducking behind a large suitcase. Oh, this was not good, she told herself, praying that the Splicer wouldn't see her. This dream was slowly turning to a nightmare. At least, she half-hoped she was dreaming. She shook her head quickly. She had gotten this far, right? There had to be a reason for all of this, and she was here to figure it out.

Her musing was cut short as she heard a screech that nearly tore her out of her skin, jumping up to see the shape running toward her with a crowbar lifted over his head. "Whore of Babylon!" He roared, bringing it down to strike her. With a cry, she swung the bat, catching him hard across the jaw. He staggered, spitting out blood and teeth. Alice froze. She had never hit anyone before. In the dim light of the windows, she saw that the man's face was blotched with red and white, huge tumor-like bulges above his eyebrow and at his cheek making him look like a half-rotted jack o' lantern left too long in the sun. His eyes closed to slits and his bloody jaw cracked open and let out a scream, rushing at her again. Before she could think, she had hefted the bat in both hands and brought it over her head and down onto his skull with all her strength. Too much like a jack o' lantern, his skull caved under the blow, his thin form crumpling to the concrete floor with little more than a groan.

"Shit." Alice breathed, eyes going wide. Not a dream, she thought, pulling her hood from her head with a shaking hand. She felt sick. "Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit." She had just killed someone. She couldn't tear her eyes from the body at her feet. One scarred hand still held the crowbar. This was too real. Too freaky. She couldn't handle this.

Stepping over the body, she barely got to the wall before her stomach emptied itself. Charming, she thought, wiping her mouth with her hand. Just what she needed. Wearily, she made her way back to the bathysphere, kneeling to wash her hand and mouth with seawater. Better than nothing.

"It's the ADAM that does that to ya." A new voice echoed off of the metal and glass around her. She whipped around, grasping the bat again. She blinked as her eyes fell on a new figure—another man. He stood with most of his weight on one leg, exposed mostly by his torn pants of a color indistinguishable from the dried blood and obvious wear. As she slowly stood, she made out a fraying white dress shirt—in similar shape—hanging off of a lanky body. The man wore a mask that reminded her of a Venetian plague doctor below a messy shock of dark hair.

"What?" She asked, holding the bat much like a sword in front of her, keeping it between them.

The man tilted his head to the side. "ADAM. The currency here in our great city. Tricky stuff, though. You've got to use it instead of letting it use you or else it fucks you up. Tears your body apart from the inside out, powers out of control, and you go soft in the head. Sometimes very literally, as you've seen." His voice was startlingly even, despite how similar he looked to the Splicer she had just killed. The thought made her stomach turn again. She couldn't even look at the body.

"You're from up there, aren't you? Topside?" The man asked next, not giving her a chance to speak before going on. "It's not often we get visitors. Actually we don't get any at all. We've been on lockdown since everyone who ever tried to be in power either left or kicked the bucket. No one left. Everyone here's either crazy, in hiding, dead, or close to it. How'd you get down here? Bought? Borrowed? Stole?" He spoke very quickly, using his hands to illustrate in wild gestures. Quite the character, Granddad would say. He was definitely quite the character.

"No…" She said cautiously, not lowering the bat. "I just went to the lighthouse…there was already a bathysphere there. I was curious…so I came down here."

"Well, quite the welcome wagon you got, huh?" He laughed as if he had made a particularly good joke. "Well, not to worry, I'm not the type to kill those who don't give me reason to. And you seem like a sweet girl to me, anyway. Just don't try to kill me, all right? Deal. I'm Slater, who're you?"

"Alice…" His loud, brash attitude was making her head spin. On a normal day she could have taken it in stride, but this was definitely a little too much for her.

"Like Wonderland, right? Well, I think you might have fallen down the wrong rabbit hole here, Alice. My best advice would be to go back the way you came, before more guys like that come along. A bat will only help you for so long."

His words snapped her out of the trance the dead Splicer had caused. She couldn't go back. Not yet. She was here for a reason. "No…" She shook her head, her voice getting some semblance of force to it. "No, I can't go back. I have to find something out first. I can't leave until then." This decided, she stood a little straighter. "Are you a Splicer?" She asked suddenly, wondering just who this man was.

"Yes and no." He didn't seem offended by the question. "You have to have a little kick to your system to survive down here. Why, want me to direct you to a Gatherer's Garden?"

It took a moment for her to remember the term. She'd have to learn on her feet down here, she thought with a frown. "No. Definitely not. I just need some information, that's all. There's not really a city library or something down here, is there?" She slowly lowered the bat. If this man were going to attack her, she thought, he would have done so by now. She kept a good grip on it just in case. Things weren't always as they seemed.

He tilted his head the other way. "Nope, none at all. And information comes at a price down here. Like power. Or ammunition. Or food, come to think of it. Hey, how 'bout I tell you what you need to know?"

"For what price…?" She asked warily.

"Damn, you catch on quick!" He jumped a little in excitement. "You might just do pretty good down here! Tell you what; you help me on a pet project of mine, and I'll tell you what you need to know. If I can't answer your questions, I'll direct you to someone who can. Deal?"

He held out a bandaged, bloodstained hand. Well, Alice, she thought. Moment of truth. The thought was meant to be heartening, but she felt a little corny for using the phrase. She was in over her head in a city with rules far different from the world she was used to. She knew from Granddad's things that there was a very high chance that she would be betrayed. But any help would help her in the long run, she rationalized, and at the very least she might get a better weapon out of it. She took a step forward, clasping his hand in hers.

"Deal."


End file.
